


Oh, Those Summer (Isles) Nights

by wildlingoftarth



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Smut, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vacation, but they are NOT RELATED, past Cersei/Jaime - Freeform, there is really no plot to this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 05:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21422854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildlingoftarth/pseuds/wildlingoftarth
Summary: Jaime Lannister is sent on vacation by his brother after working himself nearly to death on an upcoming deal. His relaxing sojourn becomes something more entirely when he meets an intriguing blonde with the bluest eyes he's ever seen.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 116
Kudos: 389





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20867579) by [ddagent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent). 

> Inspired by the fantastic one-shot "Fling" by the incomparable ddagent. I changed the setting because I couldn’t come up with a clever title using Dorne, lol. 
> 
> Unbeta’d because I like to live dangerously. 
> 
> The soundtrack to this fic is the entirety of Lewis Del Mar’s [self-titled album](https://open.spotify.com/album/7BKGTpCWDwTCeHnlLFcfLJ) but especially the song “Puerto Cabezas, NI” which provides the lyrics at the beginning of the first few chapters.

_High my blood, heavy like hot rain_   
_I'm drown in ya_   
_Colors mixing on a hot day, hot day_   
_–Lewis Del Mar, "Puerto Cabezas, NI"_

* * *

The heat and humidity hits Jaime like a brick wall as soon as the door to the Lannister Holdings jet opens. He shields his eyes from the blazing Summer Isles sun as he walks down the steps, a bead of sweat already rolling down his spine.

_The next time Tyrion forces me to go on vacation, I’m getting a log cabin in the woods on Skagos_, he thinks, unbuttoning the top button of his white shirt and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

He’s not exactly complaining about taking Tyrion’s suggestion (more of an order, really) of two weeks off – he’s been working so hard for so long on this upcoming deal that one more contract or PowerPoint slide may have sent him tumbling over the edge into psychosis. But he is already beginning to regret agreeing to this stay at a luxury eco-resort in Lotus Port. He enjoys beaches and tropical weather, sure, but this damp, oppressive heat is unlike anything he’s ever experienced in Dorne or Lys or Volantis.

Tyrion assured him he would love the Lotus Port Lodge, having spent a vacation there a few months prior. “Did you know, brother, that prostitution is a respected profession in the Summer Isles, practiced even by the high-born?” he’d said with a smirk. “I think some time acquainting yourself with the island’s esteemed practitioners will do you good.”

Jaime knows Tyrion means well, but Tyrion also knows Jaime has never shared his brother’s fondness for transactional or even casual sex. Despite the façade he presents to the world, Jaime is a romantic at heart and prefers real intimacy to drunken one-night stands or apathetic purchased blow jobs. Jaime had assured his brother that he would try to relax and possibly “get fucked,” as Tyrion had so eloquently put it, but he has no intention of actively seeking out a two-week affair.

His shirt clings to his back as he makes his way across the runway to the waiting limo and the driver with the sign bearing Jaime’s name. He shakes his head at Tyrion’s excess, but nearly moans as he slides into the backseat of the limo and the air conditioning chills his damp skin.

He gazes out the window at the lush jungle scenery whizzing past. The trees are an almost unnatural shade of green, and the brightly-colored birds flying from tree to tree are the type he’s only seen in zoos.

After about 10 minutes, the limo pulls up to what looks like a large plantation home. The two-story building is painted in various shades of green and blue, with a red-tiled roof and wrap-around balconies on both levels. Roofs of stilted treehouse bungalows peek out from the jungle around the main building, and Jaime can hear the crash of the ocean waves from behind it. The breeze relieves some of the sweltering heat, and Jaime is already planning out how to properly thank Tyrion for suggesting such an idyllic location for his enforced time off.

He makes his way into the building to check in, eyeing the other guests as he passes. The majority look to be middle-aged couples, with a few younger couples and groups of friends scattered in. He may be the only single person here, but that doesn’t bother him – he’s here to relax and unwind, after all, not scam on women.

He checks in at the front desk and gets the key to his room – a deluxe beachfront room, of course. The man working the desk practically falls all over himself telling Jaime that if he needs anything, _anything at all_, to just ask and it will be taken care of. Tyrion must have told his assistant to really play up the Lannister name when making the reservation.

Jaime’s room is on the ground floor in the main building, a few doors down from the front desk. He swings the door open and is greeted by the smell of fresh coconut and salty sea air, the louvered windows and sliding doors having been thrown open in preparation for his arrival. There is a small round teakwood table and two chairs to the right of the door, a basket of tropical fruits placed on it. A king-size bed with crisp white sheets and colorful pillows sits against one wall, opposite a huge picture window overlooking a lush green courtyard.

He walks out the sliding door onto a small porch with two lounge chairs, then down the steps toward the beach. The sand is white and powdery under his feet, and the water is a bright turquoise blue. Several hammocks hang between trees along the beach.

He removes his shoes and rolls his pants up to his calves, then wades into the water. It is refreshing, yet not too cold, and he resists the urge to strip down right then and dive in. He takes a deep breath of sea air and closes his eyes, tilting his head up toward the sun. _Ok, Tyrion knew what he was doing sending me here._

After a few minutes of enjoying the feeling of sun on his face and water lapping at his ankles, Jaime turns and makes his way back to his room, hands in his pockets and pants still rolled. A movement to his left catches his eye – he looks over and sees a woman watching him from one of the hammocks. Her eyes peek out from over the top of a large hardcover book, but when he catches her staring, she quickly looks back down.

Her blonde hair is slicked back, as if she’s just been swimming, and even stretched out in a hammock he can tell she is taller than average. Her face is hidden by the book, and she turns it away from him as he passes, though he knows she sees the smirk he sends her way. Although he can’t see for sure, he swears she’s blushing behind that book.

Alright, so the main purpose of this vacation is rest and relaxation, but what’s a little harmless flirting between hotel guests? He is a social creature at heart, after all, and spending an entire two weeks with only his own thoughts to keep him company sounds frankly dismal. He resolves to find this mystery woman tonight to have some proper fun.


	2. Chapter 2

_In the streets without the street lights_  
_And with no power lines_  
_I am electric, I'm electrical_  
_I finally found the rest of me  
–Lewis Del Mar, "Puerto Cabezas, NI"_

Unfortunately, Jaime does not see the mystery woman that night, which is odd considering the resort only sleeps 60 people max. He does have a delicious dinner on the veranda of the restaurant and a few sweet tropical drinks at the bar, where he finds himself chatting with the bartender, a grandfatherly old man named Davos.

Davos had been a commercial shipping captain based in King’s Landing before retiring to the Summer Isles with his wife and taking up bartending to pass the time. He regales Jaime with tales of interesting guests and advice on the best excursions around the island. Jaime listens with interest as Davos tells him of hidden waterfalls and secluded caves and crumbling jungle ruins. He says there’s a group going to one of the most famous ruins tomorrow morning and that Jaime should be in the lobby at 6 a.m. sharp if he wants to join.

An adventure to mysterious ruins sounds right up Jaime’s alley, so he looks at his watch – it’s still early enough that he could get a decent night’s sleep and make it down to the lobby in the morning. He knocks back the rest of his drink, thanks Davos for the chat, and heads back to his room.

A small group of hotel guests is already gathered in the lobby when Jaime strides in the next morning. As he expected, it’s mostly couples in their 40s and 50s, along with a few older men whose partners ostensibly declined to accompany them.

The tour guide, a local named Jalabhar (“_but just call me Jala_”) explains that they’ll be taking a bus about an hour into the jungle, where they’ll park and have a few hours to explore the ruins. Afterward, they’ll get back into the bus and drive to a famous sinkhole for swimming and diving.

Jaime listens dutifully until movement at the fringe of the group distracts him. Another guest has walked up and stopped an arm’s length from him, and before he even gets a chance to turn his head, he knows it’s _her_. He was right about her being taller than average – she has at least an inch on him – and her pale blonde hair, now dry, falls just to her shoulders. He guesses she is anywhere between six and 10 years younger than him, but there is a slight world-weariness about her that suggests she has seen more than most people her age.

He studies her out of the corner of his eye, starting with her sensible hiking boots, loose khaki trousers, fitted black tank top, _gods her arms are amazing_, long neck, sharp jawline, generous scattering of freckles…and then she turns toward him. Her eyes are the brightest, most vibrant shade of blue he’s ever seen, and he hears himself gasp softly.

She must take this as an insult, because she knits her eyebrows together before turning back abruptly. He is overcome by the sudden urge to explain himself, explain exactly _what_ he isn’t sure, when Jala begins herding them to the bus. She strides quickly to the front of the group and disappears onto the bus, and Jaime prays to every god he doesn’t believe in that the seat next to her won’t be taken by the time he gets on.

He doesn’t know what it is about this woman – who is decidedly not his type and is not conventionally pretty, to put it politely – that draws him to her, but he _needs_ to know her.

He steps onto the bus and scans the seats – there, in the middle, she’s settled into a window seat and has already pulled out her book. His heart actually pounds as he watches the other riders fill in the seats, and his eyes bore holes in the back of the head of anyone who looks like they might take the seat beside her.

This is the first time he’s gotten a good look at her head-on, and like he thought, she is not pretty, but she captivates him nonetheless. Her features on their own are large and coarse, but taken together with those absolutely breathtaking eyes, there is something so pure and innocent about her face that he can’t look away even when she stares up at him and cocks her head in apparent confusion.

The confident, smirking Jaime from the beach yesterday has skittered away and been replaced by a nervous adolescent when he finally reaches her row. He gestures to the seat next to her. “Is this seat taken?” he asks with a too-big smile. She offers him a polite smile and shakes her head, but her narrowed eyes belie her suspicion. Jaime slides into the seat and wipes the dumb grin off his face before flicking his eyes to her book, “The Art of Warfare in Ancient Westeros.” _You’ve read that book, _his subconscious nudges._ Talk to her about it._

“That one’s pretty good,” he remarks. “Not quite as good as ‘By Sword and Fire,’ though.”

She puts the book down into her lap and turns to him with an incredulous look. “What? This is the definitive text on ancient warfare. ‘By Sword and Fire’ is a bunch of fairy tales dressed up as research.” Her voice is clear and dulcet with a touch of huskiness that makes Jaime’s blood heat up.

Jaime smiles at her obvious passion for the subject. _This is going to be fun_. “’Definitive’ doesn’t always mean ‘best.’ It’s so…stuffy. Aren’t you interested in the stories? The legends that always have at least a hint of truth to them? The _people_ behind the armor and weapons and battle formations?”

She studies him for a moment before replying, “Honestly? Not really.” Her delivery is dry as a bone, but something like amusement twinkles in her eyes.

Jaime’s laugh bursts out of him with such force that people from several aisles over crane their necks to look at him. “Fair enough. I’m Jaime, by the way.” He holds his hand out and she looks down at it and back up at him before taking it and giving it a firm squeeze. Her hand is warm and dry despite the damp heat outside, and her grip is just as strong as Jaime imagined it would be.

“Brienne,” she replies, fixing him with those bright blue eyes that are slightly unnerving close up.

Jaime realizes he is still shaking her hand long after their introductions are done when she loosens her grip and attempts to slide her hand out of his. He releases it quickly and feels an unfamiliar warmth creep up his cheeks. _Am I blushing? Is this what blushing feels like? _

He thanks the gods when Jala begins speaking and gives him an excuse to look away. The guide explains that they’re to visit the ruins of Red Flower Vale, an ancient city nestled in a valley surrounded by mountainous jungle. The ruins consist of a large stepped pyramid with several smaller pyramids and outbuildings, tombs, monuments, even an archery range.

The city was the center of the Summer Islander civilization until a mysterious event drove the inhabitants out thousands of years ago, leaving the jungle to reclaim it until its relatively recent excavation.

Jala finishes speaking and the bus lurches forward, pulling Jaime out of his imaginings of what could have driven the Summer Islanders from Red Flower Vale. He looks over at Brienne, who has her thumb on the edge of her book, poised to open it. _You’re losing your chance. Talk._

“So, Brienne,” he says a little too eagerly. “What brings you to the Summer Isles?”

She sets her book in her lap again and flicks her eyes up. She hesitates as if she’s determining how much to tell him. She finally replies, “I just needed to get away for a while. Work, personal stuff, the usual.” The way she says it, it doesn’t quite sound like “the usual,” but he doesn’t pry. “You?” she asks, and he knows she’s just trying to be polite, but he will take any excuse to keep engaging her. 

“Trying to prevent a work-related nervous breakdown. My brother actually forced me to take time off, that’s how bad it was. I really wanted to go on a historical tour of the Free Cities, but he insisted I do nothing for two weeks. So, here I am. Clearly not doing nothing – don’t tell my brother.” She smiled at that, slight and closed-mouthed, but it made him want to see more.

He pointed again to her book. “So, you’re a history buff too, I take it?”

Her eyes light up at that, and she becomes more animated. He notices that she has a slight gap between her two front teeth, more endearing than off-putting. “I am. I wanted to be a paleontologist when I was a kid. But after the hundredth time my dad gently reminded me that I’m his only heir and will need to take over the family business one day, I settled for books and tours of historical sites.”

“Ah, family obligations. I understand that very well. I wanted to be a knight when I was a kid. It was very disappointing to learn knights don’t really exist anymore. And now I, too, work for the family business, raking in money for my father and not contributing anything meaningful to society.” He recognizes the bitterness in his voice and quickly changes the subject, gesturing to the book. “What’s your favorite legend?”

“Oathkeeper,” she says with certainty. “Kind of cliché, I know, but I’ve loved it ever since I was little.”

Jaime quirks up his eyebrows. “Oh, a romantic, are you?”

Brienne rolls her eyes subtly. “No one even knows for sure if the Blue Knight was a woman. But it’s just such a good story. A knight from one side of a conflict gifting a priceless sword to one from the other side in order to keep a vow they both swore? We could all learn a lot from it.”

They pass the rest of the ride discussing, and sometimes arguing, history, legends, wars, weapons, and other topics Jaime had been sure he’d never be able to talk about with a woman. She even gets comfortable enough to tease him, which makes that odd heat rise in his cheeks again.

They’re debating the merits of trebuchets vs. battering rams when the jungle thins and the bus pulls into a dirt lot. Jala informs them they’ll have two hours to explore the ruins before getting back on the bus to the sinkhole. Jaime stands up at the same time as Brienne, laughing when they both bump their heads on the ceiling of the bus. The close quarters cause their arms to press against each other, and the contact flusters Jaime more than a simple touch should.

They file off the bus into a large green space dominated by a huge stepped pyramid of gray stone, covered with lichen and moss. Jaime hears Brienne gasp beside him and looks over at her. She’s staring up at the top of the pyramid with huge eyes, her mouth parted slightly, a look of pure awe on her face. Despite her size and obvious strength, she looks at this moment like a child.

He studies her until she notices, then turns his attention to the ruins. They really are spectacular – an entire city of crumbling stone, built with advanced methods lost to the ages, reclaimed by nature.

Jala herds them around to each smaller structure, and Jaime tries to pay attention to the facts he gives about each, but finds his thoughts drifting to Brienne. She is not what anyone would call beautiful, but he is dumbstruck by her.

Given the way she looked at him when he asked to sit by her, she doesn’t understand the effect she has on him, but then again, neither does he. He decides thinking too much about it would waste his already-limited time.

Jaime sticks close by her as they walk around the ruins, occasionally muttering quips and jokes into her ear that elicit a range of responses from hearty guffaws to huffs and eye-rolls. Even the latter he finds intoxicating, though he is careful not to push too far.

Finally, they arrive at the foot of the huge pyramid that serves as the focal point of the ruined city. Jala explains that this is one of the only ruins in the Summer Isles on which visitors are allowed to climb, and is actually the tallest man-made structure in the Isles.

Jaime takes it as a personal challenge when Jala warns that only those who are in excellent physical shape should try climbing to the top – because of the multiple terraces and landings, it is much taller than it looks from the ground.

Judging by her athletic build and interest in warfare and weapons, Jaime presumes Brienne has a competitive streak almost as wide as his. He turns to her, eyes glinting. “Race you to the top.”

She cocks her head in feigned surprise. Jaime doesn’t miss her eyes flitting over his obviously well-maintained form. “You heard Jala. Only those in excellent physical condition should attempt it. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Jaime smirks at her, delighted that she’s joining in on his game. “Alright, I get it. You’re scared of losing. Well, I’ll make sure to take plenty of pictures from the top.”

Brienne scoffs. “I’m scared of you having a heart attack. I don’t want that on my conscience.”

Jaime’s mind floods with many other ways she could give him a heart attack, but he keeps them to himself. “Tell you what – I’ll forfeit my win if I have a heart attack. And you get to leave me to the crows at the top of the pyramid.”

The corner of her mouth quirks up ever so slightly. “Deal.”

They stare at each other for a beat, neither moving, until she smiles broadly and lunges for the first step. He is half a second behind her, his legs furiously working to keep up. Although she only has an inch on him in height, he estimates her legs must be a foot longer than his, for how quickly she bounds up the steps. Jaime thanks his past self for working the stair-climber into his fitness routine regularly as his breathing becomes labored.

He can’t focus too much on himself, though, when Brienne’s muscles are flexing and tightening directly in front of him, her arms pumping with every step.

Jala was right about the pyramid being taller than it looks – every time Jaime thinks they might be at the top, another set of steps rises in front of him. His heart hammers wildly and sweat runs down his back as he strides up one stair, then another, always just behind Brienne.

He knew when he challenged her to a race that she would put up a good fight, and he wasn’t wrong. She looks over at him from time to time with a fierce smile on her face as if she is enjoying this just as much as he is. In truth, Jaime never feels more alive than when his blood is pumping, heart is pounding, and muscles are throbbing with use. The idea of a woman who can match him physically excites him in more ways than one.

Finally, they reach the last set of stairs, the top of the pyramid jutting up into sight. Jaime is not sure where the sudden burst of adrenaline comes from, but he uses it to take the final stairs two at a time, reaching the top a hair’s width in front of Brienne.

He crumples to his hands and knees, heart bursting out of his chest, while she bends over and places her hands on her thighs, panting. He looks up at her with his best “I-told-you-so” smile, which gets him a sharp glare followed by a proffered hand to help him up.

“I underestimated you,” she pants as he clambers to his feet, his eyes resting on the bead of sweat settled in the hollow of her throat. “But we didn’t discuss the terms of the wager. Is there a prize?”

Jaime’s plan is working brilliantly, but he holds his cards close to the vest for the time being. “I’ll have to think about it,” he says with a sly smile.

He finally looks around him, and the view takes his breath away. He can see for miles in each direction – lush green jungle and hazy mountains surround them, the sea glints in the distance, and fluffy white clouds stand out against the vivid blue of the sky. It’s one of the most extraordinary sights he’s ever seen, but when Brienne turns her cerulean gaze on him, the view pales in comparison.

She looks every inch the warrior in this moment, a fine sheen of sweat covering her exposed skin, cheeks flushed from exertion, blood pumping through muscle and sinew. Her chest is still heaving, though not as urgently as before, and Jaime nearly gets carried away imagining other ways he could make her breathe heavily.

They finally make their way back down the pyramid, in step this time, and slowly, taking their time to look around and savor the view. They talk about other places they’ve traveled – she regales him with tales of the North and her visit to the glacier they call The Wall, and he tells her more about his planned visit to the Free Cities that was derailed by his brother’s insistence he come here instead. _And thank the gods he did_, Jaime thinks as he watches Brienne out of the corner of his eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real-life places that inspired the settings in this fic:
> 
> [Hamanasi Adventure & Dive Resort, Belize](https://www.hamanasi.com/belize-resort/)  
[Caracol Mayan Ruins, Belize](https://www.google.com/search?q=caracol+belize&sxsrf=ACYBGNSuR1ThU5UdJVTNYC4Hq-Z18-mGLQ:1574087974550&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiUvMXU_vPlAhVDWK0KHXCDDBkQ_AUIEygC&cshid=1574088038053536&biw=1403&bih=734&dpr=2)  
[Ik Kil Cenote, Mexico](https://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g150808-d1137451-Reviews-Cenote_Ik_kil-Chichen_Itza_Yucatan_Peninsula.html)


	3. Chapter 3

They explore more of the ruins before being herded back onto the bus for the drive to the sinkhole. Jala explains that there are hundreds of sinkholes in the Isles, formed by the collapse of porous limestone exposing groundwater underneath.

The ancient residents of the Summer Isles considered them sacred and used them to commune with the gods, sometimes offering human sacrifices during times of struggle. Jala’s voice gets low and dramatic when he states that the one they are visiting today is nearly 200 feet deep, so the bones of those sacrificed almost certainly still litter the bottom. Jaime doesn’t miss the way Brienne’s face lights up at this macabre fact.

They pull into the parking lot and file out of the bus, walking into a small stone locker room building to change before swimming. Jaime pulls his swim trunks on quickly and walks out of the building to wait for Brienne. He almost feels lightheaded when Brienne strides out in her swimsuit, a practical, athletic black one-piece with a high neck and racerback.

The suit itself is not even remotely sexy – it looks like something a professional swimmer might wear for aerodynamics in the pool – but it highlights her defined shoulders and is cut up to her hipbones, revealing the most glorious legs he has ever laid eyes on.

They are strong, shapely, and miles-long, and are unsurprisingly dusted with the same freckles that caress every other inch of the skin he’s seen. His mind wanders to what they would feel like wrapped around his shoulders, and his face must betray the nature of his thoughts, because she looks down and blushes a second after catching his eye, walking quickly past him to where Jala waits.

Jaime follows her and the rest of the group to a large circular railing. Jaime leans over and looks down – the water is clear and turquoise, and vines hang down from the sides, giving the place a fairytale quality. Jala explains that the stairs cut into the side of the sinkhole will lead them down to the water, then back up to a 20-foot cliff for the adventurous souls who wish to jump off. Jaime grew up diving from the cliffs at Casterly and is more than familiar with jumping into water from tall heights, but it’s been many years, and he hopes he doesn’t break something on the way down.

Just ahead of him, he notices Brienne bouncing on the balls of her feet, as if she can barely contain the energy in her body while trying to listen politely to Jala. As soon as Jala dismisses them, she is the first one to the entrance and takes the stairs down as quickly as the slippery stone will let her.

Jaime’s eyes follow her as she moves farther and farther ahead of him, not bemoaning the lack of closeness when he can drink in her entire body at once. She gets to the bottom of the stairs and without even glancing at the entrance to the water, walks directly to the second set, the one leading up to the cliff. Jaime watches her thigh muscles flex and tense as she bounds up the steps to the platform.

She steps to the edge, raises her arms, bends her knees slightly, and springs off, tucking herself into a perfect ball. She makes one and a half tight rotations before unfolding and slicing into the water at a perfect 90-degree angle, barely making a splash. Jaime doesn’t realize he’s frozen in place until her head emerges from the water, the other visitors breaking the spell with their cheers and applause. He can see her cheeks redden from where he stands, and she dips her head back under the water, but her smile can’t be hidden. It spreads across her entire face, revealing that gap in her teeth again, and warmth spreads through Jaime’s chest before moving curiously lower.

Brienne walks out of the water at the same time that he makes it to the bottom of the first set of stairs. She tilts her head back and runs her hands to the back of her neck, and the water dripping off her makes her look like some sort of fierce sea goddess. Jaime knows he is staring, but can’t seem to tear his eyes away.

“Never seen anyone dive before?” she says coyly as she brushes past him on her way back up the stairs.

“Not like that,” he replies, scrambling after her. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“I grew up on an island,” she says by way of a very inadequate explanation.

“I grew up on the ocean too, and I can’t do that.”

She chuckles and continues up the stairs. “I did gymnastics when I was little, but then,” she gestures above her head, indicating her height. “So I switched to diving. I went to the Planetos Games twice.” Jaime’s mouth drops open at the insouciance with which she’s just disclosed that she is one of the best athletes in the world.

“Do you still dive?” Jaime asks her as they wait for a few other visitors to jump.

“Only for fun. Like I said, family business obligations.” She throws him a smirk and steps up to the platform again, this time jumping off backwards and folding herself into a pike position, parting the water with barely a disturbance. Jaime shakes his head in amazement, then waits until she surfaces to step up.

He makes sure she’s watching him before shouting down, “If you think that was impressive, watch this!” He throws himself off the cliff, shouting and flailing dramatically, and her boisterous laugh makes the hard smack into the water worth it. He swims back up to the surface and bobs in the water in front of her, returning the smile still plastered on her face.

They swim and splash and jump for another hour, and Jaime hasn’t felt this much like a kid since, well, since he was a kid at Casterly. By the time Jala waves them out of the water and back onto the bus, Jaime’s muscles and eyelids feel pleasantly heavy from fatigue.

They settle back into their seats, and to Jaime’s elation, Brienne doesn’t even reach for her book. They talk about their favorite movies – Brienne’s preferred genre is horror, and she only laughs a little when Jaime tells her his is romantic comedy. They both love historical action movies, however, and agree that the _Seven Kingdoms_ series is the best and most accurate entry in the lexicon.

Before long, the movement of the bus and the activity of the day has them both yawning, and Jaime watches Brienne close her eyes and lean her head back on her seat. Jaime gives in to the urge to do the same, and before long he’s dozing lightly. He awakens when the bus lurches to a stop outside their resort and looks over at Brienne, whose eyes flutter open and meet his. The look she gives him is soft, almost dazed, until she wakes up fully and darts her eyes away. A red flush begins in the center of her cheeks and moves down her neck.

The other passengers begin to stand and collect their belongings. He realizes he hasn’t smiled or laughed as much as he did today in a long time, and he is loath to see it end. But he doesn’t even know if she’s here alone or with a group of friends or (_gods forbid_) a partner.

They file off the bus, and before she can walk back into the resort, he smiles and says, “Thanks for keeping me company today. Anyone waiting for you in there?” He hopes his breezy tone offsets the fact that he, a man, is asking her, a woman, if she is traveling alone.

She shakes her head. “No, I’m flying solo,” she replies with a nervous laugh.

“Oh.” He suppresses the smile of absolute delight that threatens to overtake his face.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around,” she says as she turns and walks away from him. Jaime stands there for a beat before his brain catches up.

“Wait, Brienne?” he calls after her.

She spins around, looking puzzled.

“Our wager, from the race earlier? I thought of my prize.”

“What’s that?”

Jaime’s heart stutters, and he takes a deep breath before speaking. “Have dinner with me. Tonight.”

Brienne’s brow furrows, but she laughs. “That’s your prize for winning?”

“Or you could think of it as your punishment for losing. Either way,” he shrugs, smiling back.

She studies him for a moment with those clear blue eyes. “Okay.”

Jaime grins and repeats, “Okay. Meet me at seven o’clock, at the bar?”

Brienne nods and gives him a half-smile before turning and walking into the resort.

Jaime watches her go.

_I have a date,_ he thinks smugly.

A moment later, not quite as smugly: _Oh shit, I have a date._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think constantly about that scene in ACoK wherein Brienne throws a boulder off a cliff and then swan dives into the river…so that’s where the diving thing came from. 
> 
> I have no idea whether someone with a body like Brienne’s could be an Olympic-level diver in real life, but for the purposes of this story, they could.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the backlog I have so updates will be farther in between from now on...but I just couldn't wait to post this! I'm hoping to get a lot of writing done over the long weekend (US Thanksgiving) so hopefully I can keep up once a week. Thanks for reading!

_My dancehall is all bodies now_   
_And they're burning sugar sweet, so sweet_   
_My old world is on fire now_   
_As I move into the heat_   
_–Lewis Del Mar, Puerto Cabezas, NI_

Jaime showers quickly after getting back to his room, then tries on every garment of clothing in his suitcase before finally deciding on a white linen shirt and tan pants. He paces around the room, lays on the bed, sits on the chair, walks back and forth on the porch, and generally behaves like an anxious mess before finally heading down to the bar an hour early.

He’s never felt like this before a date (_is this a date? What if she doesn’t think it’s a date?_), but then again, he’s never really _dated_. He wonders idly how he’ll explain _that_ as he walks to the bar for some liquid courage.

He stutters to a stop when he sees Brienne already sitting at the bar, talking to Davos, long fingers wrapped around an orangey-yellow drink with a slice of pineapple on the rim. Davos says something and she throws her head back and laughs, a loud, hearty thing Jaime feels deep in his belly. Her throat is exposed, long and smooth, her eyes are pinched shut, and her smile spreads over her entire face. He decides right then that he would be fine with accomplishing nothing else in this life if he can make her laugh like that.

She’s dressed in all white – white tank top (_gods, she does not know what she’s doing to me with those tank tops_), tiered white skirt that comes to just above her ankles, flat sandals, no jewelry. She sits sideways on the barstool, one long leg draped over the other, one elbow on the bar. Her hair is tied back into a ponytail with a few tendrils floating loose around her scrubbed-clean face. She looks like an angel, if angels were preternaturally tall and muscled, and Jaime knows how cliché this is but he doesn’t think there’s a better word.

He watches her for a few more minutes, talking animatedly with Davos, before steeling his courage and walking up to the bar. Davos notices him first and gives a wave, drawing Brienne’s attention to him. She smiles and flicks her eyes up and down his body quickly, and he swears he feels his skin prickle where her gaze touches.

“You’re early,” he says, sidling up as casually as possible.

“I don’t take long to get ready. And besides, you’re early too.”

“Does that mean we’re both actually on time?” Davos smiles at his corny joke and busies himself making another guest’s drink, leaving them alone at the end of the bar.

Jaime stands there with his hands in his pockets, just looking at her for a moment – he’s not one to be at a loss for words, but his brain is having trouble remembering what words are when she’s staring up at him with those eyes.

“Are you hungry?” is the best he can come up with, but her face lights up anyway. “I’m always hungry,” she replies, swinging her impossibly long legs around and rising from the stool. Jaime resists the urge to take her hand as they walk to the restaurant, really just an extension of the main lobby and common area, and are seated at a table for two on the veranda.

Jaime rushes to pull out Brienne’s chair, and she looks at him as if he has three heads, but sits anyway. He realizes she may be as unpracticed in dating as he is, either that or she’s only gone on dates with uncivilized assholes.

He sits and looks at her across the candlelit table – the light softens her large, discordant features into something almost ethereal, almost beautiful. He senses that she isn’t entirely comfortable with compliments, especially those of the grandiose sort that are on the tip of his tongue right now, so he settles for, “You look nice tonight.”

Her eyebrows furrow quickly, but then she smiles and thanks him, looking down at her lap and back up. Their waitress approaches and takes their drink order – Jaime requests the drink Brienne got from the bar, which he learns is called a “Painkiller,” and Brienne orders another.

She drums her fingers against the base of her glass while ostensibly waiting for Jaime to say something. He realizes this just as she decides to break the silence herself, and they both start to speak at the same time, then stop and laugh. “Go ahead,” she says, gesturing for him to continue.

“I was just going to ask where you came here from,” he said, trying to will the nerves out of his voice.

“Oh, I live in Storm’s End. What about you?”

“King’s Landing. But I grew up in Lannisport.”

Brienne’s right eyebrow quirks up. “I could have guessed you were a big-city type of guy. But King’s Landing is pretty far from Lannisport – why did you move all the way across the country?”

“Mostly business. My father’s company is headquartered in King’s Landing. I also followed a woman there, but that didn’t work out.” He blames the fact that he mentioned that last part at all on nerves, but he can’t take the words back, so he shrugs casually and moves on. “What do you do for work?”

She groans and rolls her eyes to the ceiling. “No offense, but the last thing I want to talk about is work. All you need to know is that I’m neither a professional diver nor a paleontologist.”

Jaime chuckles and throws his hands up. “Fair enough. We are on vacation. What do you like to do for fun?”

“Um, I like to work out. Swimming and boxing, mostly. And I _love_ live music – I’ve seen Mance and the Rayders probably 15 times.”

“I love Mance and the Rayders!” Jaime lies, if only to cover up the fact he is neither young nor hip enough to know who Mance and the Rayders are. He deflects and hopes it doesn’t come up again. “But since I’m old, my all-time favorite band is The Second Sons.”

“Oh come on, you can’t be that much older than me,” she says.

“Do you not see this gray hair?” he remarks, pointing to his temples. “I turned 40 in June. You can’t be a day over 30.”

“Close, but no cigar. I’ll be 32 in December.”

“Practically a baby!” Jaime exclaims, slapping his hand on the table dramatically, eliciting a hearty laugh from Brienne.

They talk music for a little while before the waitress comes over to take their order. They decide on the appetizer sampler to split, Brienne orders the grilled fish with plantains and rice, and Jaime decides on the coconut shrimp, both of them asking for refills on their Painkillers.

When the waitress, a particularly buxom Westerosi transplant named Hildy, places their appetizer sampler on the table, she touches Jaime’s forearm and practically shoves her chest in his face while telling him to let her know if he needs anything, _anything at all_. Jaime sighs, exasperated, and leans away from her. Brienne smirks and looks a little too entertained.

“Something funny?” he asks after Hildy leaves.

Brienne’s eyes glint in the candlelight. “Does that happen often?” she asks dryly, the half-smile still playing at her lips.

“Does what happen often? I didn’t notice anything. I was too busy paying attention to my date.”

Brienne’s cheeks blaze red, but an uneasy look clouds her features and her eyes fall to her lap again. _Shit, I said something wrong._

He’s grateful when she spears a shrimp with her fork and pops it in her mouth. Jaime is pleased to see that Brienne eats with abandon, so unlike many women who pick delicately at their salads in front of men before presumably hitting the drive-through for a burger on their way home.

They make short work of the appetizer platter – fried calamari with marinara, crispy conch fritters with a garlicky dipping sauce, and tiny shrimp floating in garlic butter – and Jaime makes it a point to keep his eyes on Brienne when Hildy comes back to clear the plate.

They get another round of Painkillers, and Jaime isn’t sure if the fuzzy feeling in his head is from the alcohol or from Brienne’s presence across from him. “These are dangerous,” he says, holding up his glass before draining the last drops from the bottom. “This next one might have to be my last.”

“A lightweight, huh?” she challenges as she knocks her drink back, eyes meeting his over the rim of her glass.

“Never been much of a drinker. I’ve seen it do some bad stuff to family members. I try to only drink on special occasions,” he smiles.

“Is this a special occasion?” she asks, her voice lowering slightly.

Jaime looks directly into those clear blue eyes. “I’m in paradise, with no plans for the next two weeks, and a captivating woman across the table from me.”

Brienne’s lips part and she inhales deeply. Something passes between them, intense and electric, before Hildy breaks the spell when she comes sidling back up with their meals and drinks. Jaime thanks her without looking away from Brienne, and she huffs slightly before walking away.

“This looks good,” he remarks, to dispel the tension.

“It does. Storm’s End seafood is good, but I don’t think it’s quite this fresh.” He watches her mouth as she eats a sticky plantain, licking the sweet butter from the corner of her lips. Heat pools in his belly and curls downward, and he tries to discreetly shift in his seat. _Getting a boner from watching a woman eat_, he thinks. _I suppose there’s a first time for everything._

Jaime draws his attention back to his meal and they eat in companionable quiet, with Jaime tossing out observances and quips about the other guests of the hotel from time to time, making Brienne giggle and hide her smile behind her hand like a little girl.

By the time Hildy clears away their clean dessert plate, having annihilated a coconut cake with mango sorbet, they are both pleasantly buzzed and full to the gills, slouching in their chairs and smiling at each other under heavy eyelids.

They watch as three musicians carry instruments – a steel drum, a guitar, a set of bongos, and a microphone – to the corner of the restaurant, pushing a few tables to the side to clear a space for them to set up. Yet more tables are cleared to form a makeshift dance floor in front of the musicians.

The band begins playing an upbeat, lilting tune with lyrics about getting together and feeling alright. A few of the tipsier guests get up immediately and begin dancing, some more rhythmically than others.

Jaime and Brienne are happy to be entertained by them for a time, until Jaime notices Brienne’s shoulders swaying in time to the music. He rises from his seat and takes her hand, pulling her up. “Come on, let’s dance.”

“Oh, no, I don’t really dance…” she protests as she tries to stay seated.

“Maybe you don’t really dance at home,” Jaime says, keeping hold of her hand, “but you aren’t at home. No one here knows you, and there is no way you are a worse dancer than HIM.” He points to a man in his mid-60s doing what can only be described as a full body dry heave set to music.

Brienne roars with laughter at that, and allows him to pull her out of her chair and lead her to the dance floor. Jaime places his left hand at her waist, the heat of her skin and the hardness of her muscles sending a jolt straight between his legs, and takes her left hand in his right. Her other hand rests on his shoulder, the warm weight of it making his heart beat faster.

They begin moving in time to the beat, with Jaime periodically spinning or dipping Brienne, eliciting a laugh every time. Jaime doesn’t claim to be the greatest dancer, but he moves decently enough, and Brienne seems to be enjoying it by the smile taking up half her face. He enjoys the dancing, yes, but being this close to Brienne, their hands joined and bodies pressing together, is what he is truly savoring.

The next song is slower and sultrier, and by now the dance floor is packed shoulder to shoulder with bodies. Jaime pulls his hand out of Brienne’s and places it on her lower back, her own falling to his shoulder. He presses her slightly closer, then closer still when she shows no resistance.

His pulse races as their bodies meet from thigh to chest, her fingers interlaced behind his neck. They sway slightly slower than the music allows, but Jaime can’t bring himself to care when Brienne’s fingertips are brushing against the back of his neck and her breath is tickling his earlobe.

He feels as if he is moving through molasses, desire hazing his vision and leadening his limbs. The heat of the night air and the bodies packed on the floor is nothing compared to the blood boiling in his veins. They are barely moving now, frozen in the moment, thinking of nothing but the feel of each other’s bodies. Jaime presses his cheek to hers, and his heart begins to race when she sighs deeply into his ear. _It’s now or never._

He turns his head and grazes his lips ever so lightly against her jaw, and he watches her eyes flutter shut when his mouth meets the corner of hers. He then presses his mouth fully onto hers, her pillowy lips as soft and warm as he imagined them to be.

Brienne melts into him and releases a soft whimpering sound from the back of her throat, sending a frisson through him from top to toe. He slides one hand up to the center of her back and pushes her even closer, his fingertips pressing into the firm flesh of her body. His pulse hammers in his neck as he opens his mouth to touch his tongue to her lips.

Her tongue meets his and slides gently against it, her hand moving up to tangle in his hair. A low rumble emits from deep in his belly as her fingernails scratch at his scalp.

Suddenly, Brienne tenses, gasps and pulls away, her eyes wide and glassy. She stares at him for the longest second of his life before sliding her hands down to his chest. She gently pushes away from him, turns on her heel…and runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Painkillers](https://www.thespruceeats.com/painkiller-cocktail-recipe-760473) are a real drink served in the British Virgin Islands (among other places) made from orange juice, pineapple juice, coconut cream and rum with a sprinkle of nutmeg. They are truly dangerous.
> 
> Mance and the Rayders are an indie alt-rock band. The Second Sons are a long-running classic rock band a la The Rolling Stones.
> 
> Jaime is a Gemini (duh) and Brienne is a Sagittarius.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the rating change...things got a little carried away 😬

Jaime stands stock-still in the middle of the dance floor and watches her recede toward the beach. It isn’t until someone’s shoulder bumps him that he realizes he’s still standing there, alone, like an idiot. His thoughts churn and swirl, struggling with whether or not he should go after her, before his body makes the choice for him. He feels his feet moving him toward the beach and toward Brienne.

“Brienne!” he calls after her, his feet sinking into the soft sand as he runs to catch up. When he does, he touches her elbow gently. “I’m sorry if I misread –“

She whirls around abruptly, her face bathed in an otherworldly blue glow from the moon. “Okay, what is this? Do you have some kind of a height fetish? Do you think you’re doing me a favor, taking pity on the poor ugly girl?” She pauses and narrows her eyes further. “Are you gay?”

“What?” Jaime splutters. “No!... No, and no.”

“Then what do you want?” There is a sadness in her voice and eyes that pierces his heart. A dozen responses come to mind, some more appropriate than others, but he decides to take the most direct approach.

“I want you,” he says softly, as sincerely and truthfully as he has ever spoken.

Her shoulders slump and she lets out a long, deep sigh, turning toward the water and sitting down heavily in the sand. She draws her knees into her chest and wraps her arms around them.

Jaime hesitates for a moment before sitting down next to her at a respectable distance and staring at the water. They listen to the waves for what feels like an eternity before she finally speaks, still facing toward the water. “You were so _nice_ to me today,” she says, her tone almost accusatory.

“I’m…sorry?” Jaime responds, the confusion evident in his voice.

Brienne scoffs and shakes her head. “No – it was nice. I had more fun today than I’ve had in a long time. It’s just…not normal for me. Most men who look like you don’t want anything to do with me, at best.”

He turns toward her and studies her profile in the moonlight. “Most men are idiots.” She smirks at that and looks down at the sand, running it through her fingers.

“And then, you kissed me…”

“I was being presumptuous. I should have asked.”

“No, that’s not it. I wanted you to. I just…thought it must be some kind of a trick, or a cruel joke being played on me by the gods or something.”

Jaime is equally sad and angry that she would think so lowly of herself. “I assure you, I am a regular human man, and there are no tricks here. I kissed you because I wanted to.” His voice comes out low and husky, rumbling deep in his bones. “I want to again.”

Brienne finally meets his eyes, their blue shining even in the low light. He watches her throat as she swallows thickly, then parts her lips and sucks in a deep breath. He sees a flash of understanding, or recognition, or _something_ cross her face before she turns her body toward him and closes the distance. Her lips press against his so whisper-softly he would be sure he was imagining it if he weren’t seeing it for himself.

He is more restrained this time, keeping the kiss chaste and gentle despite the desire jolting urgently through him, to prevent scaring her off again. He keeps his hands at his sides and lets her take the lead. She rises to her knees and draws him up to hers, bodies flush against each other, knees sinking in the soft sand.

Her hands cup his face and pull it closer, opening her mouth slightly and leaning her head to the side. Jaime takes this as a positive sign and places his hands at her waist, feeling her muscles shudder at his touch.

She takes his bottom lip between hers and runs her tongue along it, and the molten feeling in his veins shoots straight to his groin. A low groan escapes his mouth and his hands move as if they have a mind of their own, gripping her waist tightly before sliding up the sides of her body and pulling her closer to him. Her fingertips graze the back of his neck before burying themselves in his hair.

They kiss and touch until they are breathless and gasping. Not figuring Brienne for the type of woman who would appreciate being bent over and taken right there on a public beach, Jaime reluctantly breaks away, pressing his forehead to hers. “Would you like to continue this elsewhere?” he asks, his voice barely audible above the waves.

“Yes,” she breathes against his mouth. “Your room.”

Jaime shoots to his feet and pulls her up with him, the space along his front feeling cold and empty despite the heat. He grabs her hand and walks quickly back to the restaurant, plunking a 20-dragon note on the table for Hildy before pulling Brienne through the crowd of guests and into the hallway where his room is located.

His pulse thrums in his ears as he fumbles in his pocket for his room key, made even more difficult by Brienne’s hands gripping his shirt and her mouth hot on his neck. He finds his key and slides it into the lock, swinging the door open and pushing Brienne through it before slamming it shut and pressing her back against it.

He raises up on to his tip toes to kiss her, delving his tongue into her mouth and sucking on her bottom lip, eliciting a whimper that makes him throb. She pushes against his chest to direct him farther into the room, and he grabs her shirt and pulls her along with him. Their feet tangle as they stumble toward the bed, hands groping and clothes flying, the only sounds in the room their guttural moans and gasps.

The backs of Jaime’s knees hit the edge of the bed, and he lays down and pulls her on top of him. He only notices their shirts have gone missing somewhere between the door and the bed when he feels her bare skin feverish against his chest. His hands slide up and down her back urgently, desperate to feel every inch of her skin, as her knees move to either side of his hips.

She is astride him now, pinning him under her weight, and Jaime is unsure if he has ever been this aroused in his life. She is not delicate – on the contrary, her weight on top of him is just shy of uncomfortable, but the feeling of her grinding her hips down onto his hardness pushes any other thought from his mind.

His hands slide around to her ribs and then up to palm her small breasts, capturing the hardened nipples between his finger and thumb. She gasps and arches down into his touch, exposing her throat for his mouth, tongue and teeth to explore. She grinds into him again and he has to picture his father’s face to avoid coming in his pants like some pubescent kid.

Jaime gathers up his strength and flips them over, resting his hands on either side of her head, pausing for a moment to study Brienne’s face in the blue glow of the moonlight shining in through the windows. Her eyes are half open, her lips parted and swollen, her hair streaming loose around her head. She runs her nails from his shoulders down his chest and to the top of his waistband, every touch like an electric shock.

He pulls away and begins kissing down her body, noticing a spot on her collarbone that makes her shudder especially intensely and pausing to lavish extra attention on it. Her fingers intertwine in his hair as he moves south, then pull almost painfully when he swipes his tongue over a pebbled nipple before sucking it into his mouth. “Harder,” she utters, the commanding tone of her voice making his cock swell. He bites down gently then, and the sound that emits from her is more glorious than a choir of gods.

He reluctantly releases her nipple from his mouth and continues downward, swirling his tongue over the freckles covering her flat stomach, the vee of muscle at the bottom of her abdomen, the jut of her hip bones above the waistband of her skirt.

Jaime hooks his fingers in her skirt and looks up at her with a questioning look, and she meets his eyes with a dark, hungry stare and nods. Her legs are still dangling off the bed, and he pulls her skirt and underwear down in one fluid motion, leaving her naked and magnificent before him. She’s obviously just had a wax as the dark blonde curls are short and neat, but he is pleased to find she still has some, having never understood the appeal of a totally bald woman.

He cannot resist the urge to run his hands over her smooth, muscular thighs, up the sides of her abdomen and then her neck, and finally to cup her face and kiss her long and deep.

Then he kneels in front of her and kisses the inside of her thigh, nudging her legs open with his shoulders. Her cunt beckons him, swollen and glistening, and he takes a deep breath of her musky arousal before flattening his tongue against her entrance and dragging it slowly up her folds. She tastes all woman, salty and tangy and slightly metallic, and Jaime feasts on her as if she is his last meal.

Brienne releases a throaty moan and locks her ankles behind his shoulders, pulling his face deeper into her dripping center. She arches off the bed and fists the sheets in her hands, and Jaime grips her hips while he flicks his tongue against her swollen clit. He is so turned on he could come just from the sound of her voice crying, “_oh, Jaime, FUCK_,” but he concentrates on the task at hand, taking his pleasure from delivering hers.

He sucks her sensitive bud into his mouth, making her buck her hips against his face and whimper erratically. He knows she is getting close, so he moves one hand to her breast and pinches her nipple firmly while continuing his ministrations on her clit. She cries out and arches violently, her cunt throbbing and spasming under his tongue, ignoring the aching of his jaw to work her through her climax.

It isn’t until she pulls his head up weakly that he tears himself away from her cunt, now sopping wet with the combination of their juices. The thoroughly wrecked look on her face is almost as satisfying, though, and he can’t help the smug smile on his face as he crawls up the bed to her.

Jaime has never wanted anything so badly than to bury his cock deep inside her, but seeing her like this, spent and limp because of him, could be enough if she wanted it to be. He settles next to her on the bed and brushes a strand of hair out of her face, snapping her out of her trance.

The eyes she trains on him then are black pools with a sliver of blue surrounding them. Without breaking his gaze, Brienne’s hands move to his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them deftly. She strokes his rock-hard member through his underwear, and a rumbling groan escapes Jaime from deep in his belly.

Brienne swings her legs onto the bed and scoots up toward the headboard, Jaime following closely. She wraps her legs around his waist and grinds her center onto him, her heat and wetness evident even through the fabric of his boxer briefs. She captures his mouth with her own, licking and sucking at his lips, tasting herself on him.

“Do you have a condom?” she pants into his ear, and Jaime’s breath catches in his chest. “Oh, fuck, I don’t know – stay right there, please…” He rolls off the bed and runs to the corner of the room in which he threw his suitcase.

Tyrion had gotten his assistant to pack for him, apparently not even trusting Jaime enough to do that menial task, and now he prayed to all seven of the gods that Pod had thought of this. He rifles through the clothes and toiletries urgently, throwing out the occasional curse word, before coming across a small box of Ultra Thins in the pocket of his suitcase.

“Oh, THANK YOU, POD,” he whispers to the ceiling, ripping open the box and pulling the roll of foil-wrapped packets out. He makes a mental note to bring Pod home a VERY nice souvenir.

Brienne is still lying on the bed, her back against the headboard, outrageously long legs stretched out in front of her. Jaime crawls on his hands and knees up to her, and he nearly spills at the sight of her spreading her legs for him, welcoming him into the cradle of her thighs. Her thumbs slip into the waistband of his underwear and pull, his cock eager to be freed from the confines of fabric.

She takes the condoms from him, tears one open, and rolls it down to the base, then pulls him gently toward her opening. Her lower lips are already unfurled for him, wet and ready, and he slides into her easily with a deep sigh.

Her body feels like it is made for him – her cunt is so wet, so warm, so tight, that he just stays buried to the hilt in her for a long moment, pressing his forehead against hers. She wraps those long, long legs around his waist, digging her heels into his lower back, and begins to roll her hips.

Jaime gasps and his cock tingles and swells, the sensation of her warm, soft body enveloping his almost too much to bear. He calls up the image of father’s sneering face once again, preventing him making a complete fool of himself, before meeting each roll of her hips with a thrust of his own.

A chorus of moans, gasps, pants and whimpers surrounds them, and he cannot be sure who is making which sound, but he cannot bring himself to care when she feels so good under and around him. She is alternately soft and firm, strong and delicate, and her legs tight around his waist and fingers digging into his shoulder blades provide an exquisite pain.

They have found a rhythm now that has reduced him to a primal state, able to think of nothing but the grip of her cunt around him as he drives into her over and over. He thanks all the gods that he managed to make her come with his mouth already, as he doesn’t know if he will last long enough to do it again.

Brienne’s gasps are coming quicker now, her hips stuttering, her fingernails clawing into his skin. Jaime lets his full weight settle on top of her, wrapping one arm under her shoulder and the other around her thigh, and drives himself as deep as he can, throbbing desperately at the feel of her squeezing around him.

Brienne cries out and arches violently beneath him, inner walls clenching and fluttering, wringing his own orgasm from him. She sinks her teeth into his shoulder, the twinge of pain making his already-explosive climax even more intense. He throws his head back and roars, burying himself to the hilt one more time, savoring every sensation of her body tightening and eventually slackening around him.

Jaime crumples in a heap on top of her, thankful that her size allows her to take his full weight because his drained muscles surely will not support him. Pleasure continues to course through his body even as his pants turn into heavy breaths and finally slow to normal. All the while, Brienne’s fingers trace lazy patterns into the sweat collecting on his back. His left hand kneads the flesh of her upper thigh, his right still clutching her shoulder.

He knows he should roll off of her and clean himself up, but he can’t bear to extricate himself from her warm clasp just yet. Not until she slides her hands to his shoulders and pushes up gently, chuckling into his ear, “Jaime, I can’t breathe,” does he slide out of her with a soft gasp and roll to his side next to her. “Sorry,” he smiles, brushing a tendril of hair out of her face before swinging his legs onto the floor.

His knees are slightly wobbly as he makes his way to the bathroom, looking over his shoulder the whole time as if she is going to disappear once he takes his eyes off her. “Don’t go anywhere,” he calls to her, sounding a little less jaunty and a little more pleading than he had intended.

After he cleans up, he pads back out to the bed and finds her asleep already, one arm thrown on the pillow above her head, the crumpled sheet exposing a long leg and a flushed breast. He resists the urge to touch her again and slides in next to her. He realizes he has no idea if she is a snuggler or if she prefers her own space, so he compromises by laying a hand on her upper arm and pressing his thigh to hers.

He takes a long sniff of her hair, which smells unsurprisingly like the hotel shampoo, before his satedness pulls him under into a dreamless sleep.

Jaime wakes to bright sunlight streaming through his eyelids, and even before he opens them, he senses the emptiness next to him. He stretches an arm out and meets with nothing but cool sheets, then reluctantly opens his eyes to confirm his fear.

She’s gone.

He rolls out of bed and checks the bathroom, and then, irrespective of the fact that he’s naked as his nameday, walks out onto his room’s porch to look for footprints leading down to the beach.

Nothing.

He walks back into his room and sits heavily on the bed. Her clothes and shoes are gone from where they’d been scattered in a haze of lust the night before. She didn’t leave a note. It’s as if she wasn’t even here at all.

_She ran. Again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oral scene inspired by this VERY NSFW [illustration](https://twitter.com/18Fandom/status/1165478061380255744) by ayofandomthings.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which misunderstandings are cleared up.

Jaime allows himself a few minutes to wallow in self-pity before deciding what his next course of action will be. Given the small size of the resort, he is bound to run into her sooner rather than later, so he can either leave it up to chance or take matters into his own hands and go find her.

Always a man of action, he decides on the latter, dressing and making his way to one of two places he thinks she’ll be. He finds her on the first try – there in the pool, slicing powerfully through the water like a dolphin or a mermaid or some other aquatic creature, is Brienne. She crosses the pool in a handful of vigorous strokes, flipping and pushing off the wall at the end of each lap. Jaime tries to push out of his mind the memories of those strong legs wrapped around his waist last night and concentrate on the matter at hand.

Since there is only one person in the pool at this early hour, he walks over to the one chair with a towel on it and sprawls out, hands behind his head, ankles crossed, eyes closed. A few minutes later, a shadow falls over his eyes. He opens them to Brienne standing at the foot of the chair, dripping, arms crossed and head cocked to the side.

“You’re in my chair.”

“You left,” he says, not in the mood to beat around the bush.

She sits in the chair next to him and drapes her arms over her knees. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to stay. I’m not familiar with… I don’t know the rules…” she stammers, her hands nervously clenching and unclenching.

“The rules?” Jaime puzzles.

“Of, you know, one-night stands.”

Jaime sits up abruptly and turns so that his knees are pressing against hers. “Is that what you thought that was?”

“Isn’t that what it’s called when you have sex with someone you just met?” Her voice lowers as if she doesn’t want all the nonexistent people around them to hear.

“Yeah, if you never plan on seeing them again. Did you really think I was going to fuck you and then spend the next two weeks trying to avoid you?” She manages to blush at that, as if he hadn’t had his tongue inside her a few hours prior.

“I don’t know what I thought,” she says, shrugging. “I’ve never done anything like that.”

“Believe it or not, neither have I.”

She goggles at him. “Never? In 40 years?”

He shakes his head. “Never. You’ve ruined me,” he says with a smirk.

“Sorry.” She smirks right back, but her blush moves down lower, into the neck of her swimsuit. Today it’s black and a little less modest than the one she wore yesterday, with a scoop neck and strappy open back. His eyes follow the blush down, and he knows she doesn’t miss him biting his bottom lip.

He meets her eyes again. “I’m not sorry. Are you?”

Her mouth quirks up a little more and she shakes her head. “No.”

That word has ever sounded so sweet to Jaime’s ears. He watches her eyes darken as they dip down to the exposed vee of skin at his collarbone. His blood rushes in his ears and his skin hums, but he pulls himself together enough to slap his hands on his thighs and stand up quickly. “I’ll let you get back to your workout,” he says as casually as possible. “If you’re not doing anything later…”

“I’m not,” she interrupts as she stands to her full height, so close that he can feel the heat emanating off her sun-kissed skin.

“Good. Come find me.” The hoarseness of his voice surprises even him.

Despite how badly he wants to kiss her, he slips by and walks to the porch of his room without looking back. _Leave her wanting more_, he thinks, hoping beyond hope that it worked.

Jaime grabs a book, the latest installment in the _Night’s Watch_ historical fantasy series, and stretches out on one of the lounge chairs on his porch. He reads for a while, despite his distraction forcing him to read the same page over and over, until he hears footsteps approaching.

Brienne walks up the set of steps to Jaime’s balcony and stops in front of his chair. The towel wrapped around her skims the tops of her thighs, and her cheeks are still flushed from her workout. “I’m done…and I need a shower.” Her eyes dart into his room and back.

Jaime puts his book down slowly and stands up. Despite his racing pulse, he says calmly, “I happen to have a rather large shower in my room. Big enough for two, at least.”

She steps closer to him, close enough that he can see her pulse fluttering in her throat. Her voice comes out low and husky. “Show me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one today - but I promise more of that good smut is coming!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shower time. 🛀🧼💦

Jaime licks his lips, grabs Brienne’s hand, and pulls her into the room. He hears a soft _fwump_ behind him as she drops her towel, then feels a hand on his shoulder as she spins him around to pull him in for a blistering, all-consuming kiss. His stomach muscles shudder at the feel of her hands roaming under his shirt before she grabs the hem and pulls it over his head.

Jaime slips his fingers under the straps of her swimsuit and pulls down while his tongue explores her smooth neck. As soon as her breasts are free, Jaime lowers his mouth to one, Brienne’s fingers flying up to tangle in his hair. The low, desperate sounds she’s making send him from half-hard to fully stiff in seconds.

He remembers her command from the night before and sucks firmly on her nipple, using his teeth gently but judiciously. She arches into him and digs her fingernails into his scalp, then pulls him up to cover his mouth with hers. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of his shorts while he pulls her swimsuit down further, and they shed their remaining clothes on the way to the bathroom.

Jaime kisses her up against the bathroom counter, his hands roaming up and down expanses of smooth, freckled skin. He realizes then that he hasn’t really _seen_ her naked – sure, she’d _been_ naked in his bed, but he hadn’t had the chance to actually look at her. He leans her against the counter and kisses her once more before pulling away to turn the shower on, and to give him a good excuse to rake his eyes hungrily over her.

His gaze sweeps from Brienne’s long neck and broad shoulders down to her small, firm breasts, dusky pink nipples hardening under his stare. Her stomach is taut and athletic, with a slight indent at the waist and a defined vee of muscle that seems to lead his eyes down. He licks his lips as his gaze settles between her long, strong legs, legs he would happily die between, and the thatch of dark blonde hair hiding the wet pink folds he longs to taste again. As he suspected, freckles cover every inch of her. She looks half a warrior and half a goddess, her strength and softness not contradictory, but complimentary.

Jaime holds out his hand and beckons her into the shower. She walks through the steam like some kind of jungle apparition, the weight of her hand in his reminding him that she is indeed very real. He leads her into the shower and, as much as his throbbing cock wants to drive into her immediately, he resists the urge.

He directs her into the spray of the shower and positions himself behind her, squirting some of the hotel shampoo in his hand. He begins to massage it through her hair, causing her head to fall back and a nearly obscene moan to fly from her lips.

Brienne’s hands reach behind her to pull Jaime’s hips closer, arching into him. It takes all of his will power to continue shampooing her with her ass pressing against his rock-hard erection.

As soon as her hair is rinsed, she spins around and kisses him urgently, shoving him up against the shower wall. The cold surface makes him shriek in surprise, and Brienne laughs against his mouth before running her hands down the sides of his body and cupping his ass with her strong fingers.

His hips grind against her of their own accord, his hands sliding up her wet skin to massage her breasts and pull on her nipples. She moans into his mouth and bucks against him. “I want you inside me,” she murmurs in his ear, and Jaime groans as he spins her around, switching their positions so her back is against the cold tile.

By now, his cock is absolutely aching, but he focuses on her needs first, slipping one, then two fingers into her swollen cunt. Her inner walls clench around him, her head falls to his shoulder, and her leg wraps around the back of his thigh as he moves in and out. Brienne’s fingers dig into his shoulder blades and her hips rock to the rhythm of his digits.

Jaime gasps when Brienne reaches down and grasps his cock, giving it two quick pumps before sliding her hand up and down slowly, then repeating. The sensations of Brienne’s hand around his cock, his fingers inside her incredibly tight cunt, and the spray of the hot water against his back overwhelm his system to the point of speechlessness. He wants to tell her how good she feels, how good she makes _him_ feel, but only moans and pants come forth.

Brienne’s hips begin stuttering, her whimpers and mewls getting louder and more frequent, so Jaime speeds up his ministrations and circles her clit with his thumb. Her leg tightens around him as she cries out, her cunt clenching and fluttering around his fingers.

Seeing and hearing her fall apart like this hastens his own climax, his cock growing impossibly harder and thicker. He thrusts into her hand once, twice, then comes so hard he sees stars. His body shudders and spasms, his knees nearly going weak, before an overwhelming sense of relief and relaxation washes over him.

Brienne is breathing heavily into his neck, her hand still around his cock even after he’s painted her hip and abdomen with his semen. Her leg slides down until it’s wrapped around his calf, but she doesn’t move to push him away. Jaime slips his fingers from inside her and cups her face, pressing his forehead to hers before kissing her deeply and tenderly.

Brienne’s hands slide up his stomach to his chest as she returns the kiss, then pulls away slightly and smiles beneath hooded eyes. “Aren’t showers supposed to make you cleaner?”

Jaime chuckles. “There’s more than one use for a shower.” Nevertheless, he grabs the bottle of hotel body wash, squirting some into his hand and lathering it over her body. Incredibly, his cock begins to stir again when she murmurs her approval.

“Are you clean enough?” he asks into her ear once she’s rinsed.

Brienne scratches her nails down his chest and stomach, coming to rest on his hip bones. “I think so,” she replies, her voice low and raspy.

Jaime cocks his head toward the door leading out to the suite. “Then what do you say we go out there and get dirty again?”

She smiles and bites her bottom lip with those charmingly gapped teeth, then reaches around him to turn off the shower. Brienne tries to wrap a towel around her body to walk out, but Jaime gives it a sharp tug and it falls to the floor. “My room, my rules. No clothes allowed.”

Brienne rolls her eyes, but doesn’t move to pick up the towel. “A towel is not clothes.”

“Fine. I’ll be more specific. You must be naked at all times in this room. The only exception is sexy lingerie.”

“Do I look like I own sexy lingerie?”

“Then that settles it. Naked it is.”

She shakes her head at him, but smiles, and pulls him by the hand to the bed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne go exploring.

Several hours later (more hours than Jaime thought he was capable of), he and Brienne are lying in bed, the mid-afternoon sun streaming through the louvered windows. She is staring up at the ceiling with a dazed expression on her face, having just come powerfully under Jaime’s tongue, knees falling open and hands still grasping the sheets next to her.

Jaime props himself up on an elbow, still shaky from his own orgasm, and looks around. There are condom wrappers strewn everywhere, pillows and blankets kicked onto the floor, towels thrown over chairs and puddled near the door. The room looks like a sex tornado blew through it, and by running a hand through his hair, he guesses he looks like it too.

Brienne turns her head toward him and gives him a soft smile, her chest still heaving slightly. “That was…”

“Yeah,” Jaime finishes, unable to be more articulate than that. Brienne’s strength, flexibility, stamina, and willingness to try things had blown Jaime’s mind several times over. It was, by far, the most incredible sex of his life, and he finds himself both thanking and cursing the gods that they still (only) have 12 more days.

“Do you think we should get out of this room at some point today?” she asks, rolling in toward him and mirroring his position.

“Probably. As much as I’d like to stay here and continue fucking your brains out, I think this old body might need a little break.” He enjoys the way her cheeks redden at his crude language, even though what they just did would make even a porn star blush. “Davos mentioned this secluded lagoon in a cave that not many people know about – what do you say we try to find it?”

“That sounds fun,” she smiles. “But first, I need food. I’m starving.”

Jaime grins at her and holds up the room service menu. “No sense in having to get dressed any earlier than we need to.”

* * *

An hour, two burgers, a huge order of fries, and two chocolate milkshakes later, Brienne goes back to her room to change. Jaime meets her in the lobby to walk over to the bar and question Davos on this cave.

She’s wearing shorts today, which would be regular-length on a regular-size woman but almost obscenely short on her, with hiking boots, a light blue tank top with swimsuit straps peeking out from beneath, hair in a ponytail and a red bandanna tied around her head. She looks like the Tomb Raider, if the Tomb Raider had a body that could realistically raid tombs.

They walk over to the bar, where Davos is polishing glasses. He looks between them and gives them a smirk, then asks what he can help them with. Jaime leans conspiratorially over the bar. “We were hoping you could tell us more about that secret cave you mentioned last night.”

“Up for an adventure, are ya?” he asks jovially, before drawing a crude map on the back of a napkin. Jaime tries to follow along with his vague spoken directions, but keeps getting distracted by Brienne’s legs next to him, her long, slender fingers resting on the bar top, her toned shoulder pressing against his.

Davos finishes his map with a big X where the cave is located and hands it to Brienne. “Have fun, you two. If you’re not back by nightfall I’ll send out a search party for ya,” he says with a wink and turns back to his glasses.

Jaime turns to Brienne and says, “I don’t like the sound of that,” at which she scoffs.

“What, scared of a little wilderness?” she asks, her eyes glinting.

Jaime looks affronted. “Of course not. You _were_ paying attention to the directions though, right?”

She chuckles again and slaps him on the arm. “Come on, daylight’s wasting.” She strikes out along the beach and he follows close on her heels, looking for a rocky outcropping that Davos had said marked the trailhead leading to the cave. After about a mile, she spots it and points. Jaime follows her, throwing one last, longing look at the cool ocean before being swallowed up by the dark green, misty jungle.

Sweat is already rolling down his back before they’ve walked 10 minutes, the breeze off the ocean nothing more than a distant memory. In some spots, the “trail” is no more than a few bare patches of earth that Jaime would have completely overlooked, but Brienne follows it confidently.

“You seem pretty comfortable outdoors,” he observes.

“Yeah, Tarth is pretty undeveloped so I spent a ton of time outside as a kid. Hiking, fishing, camping, all that.”

“Wait, you grew up on Tarth?” Jaime says eagerly.

Brienne looks over her shoulder, surprised by his enthusiasm. “Yeah. Why?”

Jaime almost starts blabbering about the big Tarth development deal Lannister Holdings has been working on, but then he remembers that only about half of Tarth’s residents are in favor, and he doesn’t know which side she falls on. So he settles for, “I’ve been there once. It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” she agrees, without elaborating.

“Do you get back there much? Storm’s End isn’t too far, right?”

“No, it’s not. But I don’t get back very often. I left right after high school for a reason.”

Jaime doesn’t want to pry, but he also wants to know everything about her. “And that would be…?”

“Growing up in such a small community was tough for me, looking like this. There was really nowhere to escape the bullies and mean girls. Even the adults could be bad – they’re pretty traditional there and didn’t approve of me not wanting to be a stereotypical lady. So as soon as I graduated, I packed off to Stormlands University and ended up staying in Storm’s End. I’m lucky my father’s company lets me work remotely.”

“Ah, so you work for your father too. Hopefully he’s not as much of a raging dick as mine.”

She lets out a throaty laugh at that, and Jaime beams in return. “No, he’s not. He does try to get me to move back to Tarth every other week, but I can handle that.”

They pick their way farther into the jungle, surrounded on all sides with thick green vegetation, the only sound the cawing of exotic birds and the buzzing of insects. Suddenly, the trail opens up onto a placid blue river disappearing into the mouth of a huge rocky cave covered with moss, vines and jungle plants.

Brienne gasps. “There it is!” She’s already removed her boots and socks and is moving on to her clothing before Jaime rushes to her side.

“Come on, slowpoke!” she laughs, stripping off her shirt to reveal a royal blue bikini. _A bikini_. It’s one of the more modest bikinis he’s ever seen, more like a sports bra and full-coverage underwear, and he’s certainly seen her in less, but the expanses of bare skin on display make his blood rush south.

He shakes himself out of his stupor and begins undressing, pulling his shirt over his head and removing his boots and socks, placing them on the rocks next to hers. He dips a toe into the water, which is cool and refreshing, before wading in after her.

They stand at the mouth of the cave, water up to their thighs, and peer in. The water is so clear that they can easily see the steep drop-off a few steps away. He looks over at Brienne to see if her face betrays any of the fear he is currently feeling, but all he sees is a mischievous glint in her eyes before a hand pushes on the middle of his back and shoves him into the water.

Jaime gasps in betrayal and turns in the water to see her laughing above him, crouching down with her hands on her knees. “What was that for?” he sputters as he treads water in the deep lagoon, splashing her in the face, making her laugh even harder. She jumps in next to him and pushes on his shoulders, dunking his head under the water.

“Oh, you are going to pay for that!” he says as he comes up, grabbing her legs and flipping her underwater. They laugh, wrestle and grapple for a while until their limbs are tangled and breaths are ragged, and then they are kissing, Jaime’s body pressing Brienne’s against the rock surrounding the lagoon.

Her legs wrap around his waist and he ruts his hardness against her, marveling at the way she’s made him feel like a teenager again. Her fingernails dig into his back as their tongues spar and slide, and he groans when she pulls his bottom lip into her mouth. He ignores his throbbing cock for the time being and grabs her hips, lifting her out of the water and onto a shelf of rock.

Brienne’s eyes are dark, her lower lip captured between her teeth, when Jaime hooks his fingers into her waistband and pulls. She lifts her hips to allow him to peel her swimsuit bottoms off, then spreads her legs around his shoulders. Jaime runs his tongue from her knee up her inner thigh, hands pressing down on her hips as he delves into her wet pink folds.

Brienne’s hands scrabble for purchase on the rock, on her thighs, in his hair. She tugs firmly as his mouth devours her cunt, his name echoing in the cavern. He flicks her clit with his tongue and slides two fingers inside her, making her gasp and flutter around him. His other hand moves to her lower back and pushes her closer as his fingers work in and out, her hips beginning to buck erratically.

He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion and sucks her clit into his mouth. Brienne falls apart then, her back arching, inner walls pulsing around his fingers, hands winding even tighter in his hair. She cries out loudly before falling back onto her elbows with a deep exhale, feet still dangling in the water.

Jaime slides his fingers out of her cunt and rests his head on Brienne’s thigh. She lolls back against the rock as her breathing returns to normal, then lifts her head and smiles at him through heavy eyelids. “I hope Davos didn’t tell anyone else about this cave,” she says in a playful manner. Then, she bows her head toward him and says in a lower voice, “I’m not done with you yet.”

Jaime’s cock jumps in anticipation. Brienne kisses him deeply and slowly, tasting herself on him, before sliding off the rock and back into the water. She grabs his shoulders and switches their positions, gesturing for him to sit on the ledge she just vacated. She settles herself between his legs, pulls his shorts down and frees his cock with her hand. When she bends forward to swirl her tongue around the head, Jaime’s remaining blood rushes south so fast he nearly blacks out.

Brienne’s mouth is hot and soft, the suction of lips and swirl of tongue and judicious application of teeth enough to leave Jaime gasping and whimpering. He tries to keep his eyes open to watch her, but they squeeze shut despite himself, his head flying back, loud moans escaping from his throat.

It is all he can do to tap her on the shoulder to warn her just before he comes, but she squeezes her large hand around the base of his cock and wrings him dry, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucks powerfully.

His orgasm wracks through him while Brienne continues her exquisite torture, swirling her tongue while he fills her mouth with his seed. She finally swallows when Jaime goes limp with one final gasp, falling on his back to the rocks behind him. She releases him with a wet sound and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, then looks up at him, smirking. It is one of the sexiest sights Jaime has ever seen, and he might get hard again if he were a younger man.

“You are…REALLY good at that,” he says between breaths, his heart struggling to return to a normal rhythm.

“Thanks,” she replies with a shy smile, and actually blushes again, which is quickly becoming one of his favorite things about her. “Now where did you put my swimsuit bottoms?”

Jaime laughs and feels around on the rocks next to him for her bottoms. He tosses them to her and she plucks them out of the air, pulling them up her long legs while treading water. Jaime stays relaxing on the rocks as Brienne pulls herself out of the water and lies down next to him. His arm automatically pillows her head, and she rolls into him, resting her hand on his chest.

After a few minutes of relaxing with synchronized breaths, Brienne looks over at him with a mischievous smile. “Are we going to do more exploring? Or did I tire you out, old man?”

Jaime cocks an eyebrow at her, then quickly rolls them over so that he is straddling her hips and holding her wrists above her head.

“Do I need to spank you, insolent little girl?” he rasps over her, noting the way her breath quickens at the suggestion. Tension hangs heavy between them for a moment before he gets to his feet, offering a hand to help her up.

They walk as far back as the dim light of the cave allows, coming across pottery shards and even a few bones of indeterminate origin. The humid, heavy air causes sweat to run down their foreheads and pool on their lower backs, and Jaime has to resist the urge to lick a stripe up Brienne’s spine as she picks along the rocks in front of him.

They turn back toward the mouth of the cave when the rocks become more jagged and the light is so dim they can barely see a foot in front of them. They jump back into the water to cool down before climbing out of the cave, squinting their eyes at the full sun streaming through the canopy of trees.

“This was fun,” Brienne says, beaming, making Jaime’s heart squeeze dangerously in his chest. He grins back and agrees. “What do you say we go on another adventure tomorrow?”

Brienne’s face softens at that, and she nods. “I’d like that.”

They walk back into the forest and back toward the beach, chatting about nothing in particular. Jaime wonders at how comfortable he is talking to her after only a few days and finds himself wanting to know everything about her. He decides now is as good a time as any to bring up something that has been nagging at the back of his mind.

“Hey, last night, after I kissed you…why did you ask if I was gay?”

Brienne goes beet-red and buries her face in her hands. “I’m sorry about that. Remember how I told you I was here because of personal reasons? Well, my ex…I came home early one day and found him in bed with a man. Turns out I was just his unwitting beard for two years. Looking back, though, a lot of things make sense…he liked my hair short, he liked me to wear heels so I was even taller, he liked…” She shakes her head and doesn't finish the thought. “Anyway, that was six months ago. It still smarts a little. Obviously.”

Jaime nods. “Understandable. Do you want to hear my ex story? It might make you feel better about yours.”

Brienne looks over at him and grimaces. “That bad?”

“That bad.” Jaime takes a deep breath and pushes forward. “Our fathers were best friends and business partners, and we were born a day apart, so everyone called us the twins. We even look a little alike. We grew up together, and we started fooling around when we were teenagers. Our parents didn’t approve because they wanted us to marry into families that would be more beneficial to their business.” He notices Brienne’s look of shock and disgust, but there’s no time to dive into truly fucked-up family politics.

“So, we kept it secret. For years. We both dated here and there, to avoid suspicion, but she told me she never slept with anyone else, and I didn’t either. Then she decided she wanted to be a movie star and moved to King’s Landing. I followed her, of course, thinking that maybe since we were away from our families, we could finally be together out in the open. But she told me she needed to quote-unquote ‘network’ with directors and producers and couldn’t be in a relationship. All that ‘networking’ resulted in her getting pregnant.”

Brienne’s eyes widen, and he holds his hands up in defense. “I know what you’re thinking, and no, it’s definitely not mine. He looks just like his father.” He scoffs. “She always told me she didn’t want kids. Another lie, I guess. So anyway, that’s when I finally came to my senses and broke it off for good. That was five years ago.”

“You’re telling me you haven’t had a girlfriend in five years?” Brienne asks incredulously.

“Nothing serious, no. I’ve tried, but…nothing else felt right.”

Brienne says nothing to that, so he continues. “She must have fucked the right guy somewhere along the line, because she just got cast in that new Dragon Queen movie.”

Brienne gasps. “Wait, what’s her name?”

Jaime had been afraid of this, but he couldn’t lie to her. “Cersei.”

Brienne stops in her tracks and whips around to face him. “Cersei Jade? Your ex is CERSEI JADE? She’s like…one of the most beautiful women in the world!” She slaps a hand over her forehead and closes her eyes. “Now I really don’t understand what you’re doing with me.”

Jaime looks at her sternly. “Brienne. She may be beautiful, but she’s a horrible person. She lied to me, she cheated on me, she made me feel like total shit about myself. I don’t know you very well yet, but I can already tell you’re a better person than her. And in case you haven’t noticed, I find you incredibly sexy.” He grabs her face with both hands and kisses her convincingly.

Her smile is genuine, yet still somewhat confused, when they finally pull apart. Jaime feels lighter than he has in years when the trail opens up onto the beach and they start back toward their hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Cersei Jade" is Cersei's stage name, mostly because I didn't want to come up with a real last name for her, lol.
> 
> Cave inspired by the [Actun Tunichil Muknal Cave](https://www.google.com/search?sxsrf=ACYBGNRvzyk35Te2FLynTVjAia3T4uFnDA:1578247927141&q=atm+cave+belize&tbm=isch&source=univ&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj69sHYh-3mAhXPW80KHR-rD7YQsAR6BAgEEAE&biw=1345&bih=734) in Belize.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne make the most of some bad weather.

The next morning, they wake to the unexpected sound of thunder and wind outside Jaime’s room. He gets up and stalks to the window, where he peeks out and is greeted to a sight that would usually be unwelcome on vacation – a fierce thunderstorm is raging, the rain and wind buffeting the palms outside and churning the ocean into a frenzy.

Jaime looks over at Brienne, who is now sitting up in his bed, holding the sheet over her chest as if there is a need for modesty. Her hair is sticking straight out around her head and her plump lips are formed into a soft, satisfied smile. He gestures out the window. “Well, I think our hike today is out of the question – what should we do instead?”

Her eyes sweep over him from top to toe, her eyes black pools, and she quirks up a corner of her mouth. “I have some ideas.”

* * *

Forty-eight hours later, the rain finally lets up and Jaime’s eyes flutter open to early-morning sunlight streaming through the windows. Brienne is snoring softly next to him, just as wiped out from their recent activities as him. He isn’t necessarily upset about spending two full days of his vacation in his hotel room, as he’s spent it mostly inside Brienne, but he does look forward to getting a little sun and stretching his sex-worn muscles.

He looks around the room to see if there is any surface left on which they haven’t fucked, but none spring to mind – he took her bent over the bed, up against the wall, and on the little table; she straddled him on the chair, in the bathtub, and even rode him on the porch outside until he saw stars, the rain and lightning and thunder driving around them.

He wonders if it’s the tropical setting, the fact that they’re far away from home, that they don’t know anyone here, that’s made the sex so mind-blowing, but he suspects his attraction to Brienne is something primal and chemical, and that he’d feel the same if he’d met her back in King’s Landing.

But the sex hasn’t even been Jaime’s favorite part of the last few days. No, that would have to be the in-between times, during which they’d dozed in each other’s arms or laughed at trashy on-demand movies or just _talked_.

Talking to Cersei had been an exercise in futility unless the conversation directly affected her, but Brienne listened intently and asked questions and made him feel like what he was saying was worthwhile, no matter how inconsequential. He found himself pouring out his soul to her, telling her about losing his mother and appointing himself Tyrion’s protector and looking in all the wrong places for the love Tywin withheld.

In turn, she told him about losing her own mother and brother, growing up with a single dad who did the best he could, the cruelty of adults and children both, using sports as a means of escape, and finally finding some confidence after college. After just four days, he feels like he knows this woman better than almost anyone else in his life.

Brienne stirs and rolls into his chest, then stretches the entire length of her body against his, arching into him like a cat. As much as he would like to be inside her again, he figures both their bodies need a break from fucking, so he rolls out of bed and throws the shutters open, letting the bright sun flood into the room.

She groans and throws her arm over her head for a moment, before sitting up abruptly. “The rain stopped,” she observes, and Jaime grins at her. He walks back over to the bed and sits down next to her, gripping her chin in his hand and kissing her firmly.

“How are you feeling?”

She rubs her thighs together and blushes. “Honestly, a little sore.”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t ravished me quite so many times…” he teases.

She flashes a wicked little smile. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

“Oh, I thoroughly enjoyed it. But I’m not as young as I once was…and I think this old body needs a different kind of physical activity.”

They decide to go for a run on the beach, then have a low-key day by the pool. Just before she leaves to go back to her room, Jaime feels momentarily guilty for monopolizing her time so completely. “If you want to do something on your own, or with someone else, don’t feel like you have to…”

Brienne stops him. “Jaime. I like spending time with you. Believe me, if I didn’t want to, you’d know.”

Jaime supposes that’s true, and pulls her in for a kiss before walking her to the door.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne's time together ticks by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A heaping helping of smut with a soupçon of angst.

_Nine more days._

Jaime wishes he didn’t wake up every morning with a running countdown in his head of his remaining days with Brienne, but no matter what, there it is. They fuck drowsily as the first rays of sunlight peek over the horizon, Jaime sliding into her from behind before they’ve even opened their eyes.

* * *

_Seven more days._

Brienne kneels between Jaime’s legs and nudges his thighs wider. His back presses against the headboard, his chest covered with a fine sheen of sweat from their earlier exertions. He draws a sharp breath when she leans her head down and sweeps the tip of her tongue over the head of his cock.

She looks up at him through heavy eyelids and asks in a low voice, “Do you trust me?”

Jaime nods, and she brings one hand up to his mouth. Her middle finger presses against his lips, and he opens them, sucking her finger inside and swirling his tongue around it. His cock hardens even more at the feeling of any part of her being inside him, and with the anticipation of what is to come.

She pulls her finger out of his mouth slowly and crawls back down the bed, settling once again between his thighs. As she licks a stripe up his shaft, the finger he’d just wet moves lower and slides down his sensitive perineum. He gasps when she presses it against the puckered flesh below, the sensation unfamiliar and thrilling and slightly uncomfortable in the way most new things are.

Brienne’s other hand wraps around the base of his cock and her mouth around the head, sliding up and down as her finger presses against his entrance. She looks up and, watching his face, pushes the tip of her finger further inside him. His eyes roll back in his head and he moans at the sensation of filling her while she fills _him_, her hot, wet mouth enveloping his cock while her finger explores this completely untouched place inside.

She crooks her finger just so and increases the suction from her mouth, white lightning shooting through his limbs, cock pulsing as he builds toward climax. His orgasm comes on like a volcanic eruption – sudden and violent and scorching, his body trembling, head cracking against the backboard, hands clawing at the sheets so hard he’s surprised they don’t rip. Brienne continues sucking and sliding her hand up and down, prolonging his exquisite agony until she’s swallowed every drop and he’s grabbing her head and tugging it up.

Jaime shudders as she slides her finger out, and she smirks and kisses her way back up his body.

Brienne settles next to him and asks, “what did you think?”

“I think,” he manages to rasp out while wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer, “that you are going to be the death of me.”

* * *

_Five more days._

They’re sitting in the resort’s hot tub after a particularly grueling day of ziplining, climbing and rappelling, letting the hot water soothe their fatigued muscles. An older couple sits down across from them, and the woman starts grilling them with nosy questions. Jaime doesn’t miss a beat when he leans in and whispers to her that they can’t share their names because they work in a top-secret capacity for the Westerosi government, then looks around exaggeratedly and says, “in fact, you probably don’t want to be seen talking to us – some pretty bad people want us dead.”

The woman gasps and puts her hand to her chest, then stands up abruptly and pulls her oblivious husband out of the hot tub by the ear. Brienne turns to him, aghast, and says, “I can’t believe you just told her that!”

Jaime leers at her and replies, “I wanted the hot tub to ourselves.” His hand slides over her knee and up her inner thigh, pinky finger ghosting against the seam of her swimsuit bottoms. “Oh,” she breathes and looks around nervously, yet still widens her legs to give him better access.

Jaime keeps his face forward and casual as he slips his hand inside Brienne’s bottoms, sliding his fingers up and down her folds while she tries her hardest to look like she’s not getting fingered in a public hot tub. She bites her lip to muffle the sounds building in her throat when he pushes two fingers inside her and flicks her clit with his thumb.

Her head falls back and eyes squeeze shut, one of her hands splayed flat on the bench of the hot tub, the other clamped down on Jaime’s thigh. Her cunt begins to flutter and clench around his fingers, and she makes a sound that he would almost believe was her clearing her throat if he couldn’t feel her orgasm for himself.

When the aftershocks subside, he slides his fingers out of her and she whimpers ever so softly. Her eyes blink open and she looks over at him, her face going from soft to exasperated. “You are truly evil.”

Jaime chuckles and brings her hand up to his lips. “I was a perfect angel before I met you.”

* * *

_Three more days._

Jaime has been dutifully avoiding any talk of _after_ for fear of scaring Brienne off and losing what little time he has with her. But when they’re talking history and she mentions wanting to check out the old Red Keep site in King’s Landing, he can’t stop himself from blurting, “come stay with me. I’ll show you whatever you want.”

Brienne’s cheeks redden and she looks away, then rises from her lounge chair and walks briskly toward the ocean.

Jaime frowns at her back, but can’t resist picking up his phone and snapping a picture of her striding into the turquoise blue surf.

He pretends not to notice her odd reaction and doesn’t mention it, but he thinks about it all day and into the night, during which Brienne is especially passionate and unrestrained, resulting in several angry red scratches down his back and a noise complaint from their neighbors.

* * *

_Two more days. _

He wakes up alone.

After Brienne rode him to a frenzied finish the previous night, Jaime promptly fell into a deep, satisfied sleep and apparently didn’t notice her slip out. He’d woken up next to her every day for nearly two weeks, so not seeing her blue eyes flutter open, not feeling her warmth against his body, is a shock to his system.

Jaime sits up in bed and scrubs his hand over his face. He thinks back on the events of the previous day and his heart sinks. The way she acted when he brought up _after_ combined with her almost feral performance in bed could only mean one thing.

She’d meant it to be the last time.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end...for now.

Jaime finds her at the end of the dock, feet dangling in the water, the colorful sarong she’d bought at a small market they’d visited knotted over her royal blue bikini. She must sense his presence because, though she doesn’t turn around, she tenses, her spine straightening and feet going still.

He stops and stands behind her at a respectable distance. “Didn’t expect you to run away again,” he says, trying (and somewhat failing) to keep his voice casual.

Her shoulders drop and she exhales deeply. Her voice is so quiet it is almost carried away by the wind. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

“Don’t make what harder?”

“Leaving.”

“Brienne, we still have two days–”

“Exactly,” she interrupts. “Two days. Two days until you go back to King’s Landing and I go back to Storm’s End and we never see each other again. Don’t you think we should put some… _distance_ between us before then?”

Jaime’s voice belies his confusion. “Who said we never have to see each other again? You’re acting like we live on opposite sides of the planet.”

At that, she gets to her feet and looks him in the eye. “It’s not about the distance! Look around you,” she says, gesticulating wildly. “This isn’t real life. Real life is jobs and responsibilities and family obligations and…societal expectations.”

Jaime is heated now. “Is that what this is about? Societal expectations? Fuck societal expectations. Are you happy when you’re with me?”

Her voice softens. “Yes, but–”

“Then why can’t it be like that after we leave? I know we don’t live in the same place, but my company has a private jet I can use whenever I want–”

“See? This is what I mean,” she interjects, shoving past him and walking back toward the beach. “Private jets, family money, movie star exes…we’re from two different worlds, Jaime. It would never work.”

He touches her elbow to stop her and spins her around, taking her face in his hands. The last shred of his pride dissolves and is swept away by the breeze. “I’d make it work. I’d do whatever it takes. Brienne, please.”

Her face softens, but she still removes his hands and shakes her head. “You will never know what it’s like to walk down the street and be sneered at and hear, ‘what is _he_ doing with _her_?’ It’s a nice fairy tale you’ve concocted in your head, but it’s just not real.”

She places a hand on his chest to stay him and walks back onto the beach. He stands stock-still and gazes after her, the wind ruffling through his hair. He can’t let her leave like this. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, he runs after her and calls her name.

When she stops to turn around, he takes her hands in his. The desperation is evident in his voice, but he can’t bring himself to care. “Brienne. I understand if you don’t want anything more from me after this, and I will respect that.”

“It’s not—" she tries to interrupt, but he continues. “I promise I won’t try to find you or contact you. But please, let me have these next two days, if that’s all I have left.”

Brienne searches his face, presumably for signs of dishonesty or insincerity, and he is relieved that she seems to find none. Her hands come up to cradle his face, and his eyes flutter shut at her touch. She brushes her lips against his, and when he opens his eyes, he meets her vibrant blue gaze. “Okay,” she says, smiling softly, and Jaime doesn’t think he’s ever heard a word quite so sweet.

* * *

_The last day._

Jaime groans as Brienne’s alarm buzzes at an ungodly hour. He’d tried to convince her that it would be no trouble for his company’s jet to make a stop in Storm’s End, but she wouldn’t have it, of course.

He pulls her on top of him and hooks his leg around hers, effectively pinning her in place. She laughs and struggles feebly before going still and kissing him, softly at first, then more intensely, her tongue sliding along his, hips grinding against his morning hardness.

Their lovemaking (a bit premature for that term, but Jaime can’t think of one better) the night before had been by turns fervent and languid, fiery and intimate. Their hands roamed each other’s skin, ensuring they’d caressed every inch. Their gazes held while their bodies connected in the most deep, primal way. They’d passed the night snatching an hour or two of sleep before reaching for each other again. Jaime is rightly exhausted, but won’t turn down one more chance to feel her skin on his, to be enveloped inside her wet warmth.

She reaches down and guides him inside her, leaning her chest forward, her mouth fluttering over his pulse. His hands cradle her backside as he sucks on her collarbone, leaving marks low enough to be covered but high enough for her to easily see and be reminded of him.

Jaime forsakes his baser instincts and keeps still to allow Brienne to move exactly the way she needs, letting her use him for her pleasure, watching her circle her hips excruciatingly slowly on top of him.

As soon as her movements become more irregular, her breath hitching, her fingers digging almost painfully into his shoulders, he plants his feet on the bed and thrusts up one, two, three times, then feels her cunt squeeze and spasm around his cock, hears her cry out his name. He comes seconds later, shuddering and moaning her name into her neck.

He holds her to him until his cock softens and slips out, and then he holds her to him some more. He breathes in her scent, memorizes her skin with his fingertips. It isn’t until she exhales heavily and says, “I really need to get up if I’m going to make this flight,” that he loosens his grip and allows her to roll off the bed.

“If you won’t let me fly you home, at least let me drive you to the airport,” he says to her as he watches her collect her clothing from the floor, raking his eyes over her form to make sure there is no inch he has left unseen. She turns to him and puts a hand on her cocked hip. “Fine,” she sighs in resignation, but a smile plays at the corners of her mouth.

It’s only after she shoots Jaime an icy glare that he finally gets out of bed and helps her collect her things, throwing them in the open suitcase by the door. They brush their teeth next to each other in an oddly domestic scene before Jaime picks up her suitcase and follows her out the door. He doesn’t miss Brienne looking back into the room almost wistfully before he shuts the door behind him.

She is quiet on the drive to the airport, mostly watching the scenery whiz by, though she keeps her pinky finger intertwined with his on the seat between them the whole time. A few minutes from their destination, she finally turns to him. “I’m glad I met you,” she says, looking down at their joined hands.

He interlaces his fingers with hers. “I’m glad I met you too.” _Even though you broke my heart_, he thinks. There are so many other things he wants to say, but he told her he would respect her wishes, and he will. Although he still doesn’t understand why they couldn’t make this work, he doesn’t want to make this harder on either of them.

The car pulls up at the airport and Jaime rushes around to Brienne’s side to open her door. He retrieves her suitcase from the trunk despite her assurances that she can handle it herself.

They stand face to face on the curb outside the terminal, hands in their pockets. Brienne gives him a tight smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Well, I guess this is it.”

Jaime nods. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Brienne steps toward him and presses a quick kiss to his lips. “Goodbye, Jaime.”

“Goodbye, Brienne.” It takes all his willpower to stop himself from reaching for her, from pulling her into a crushing embrace, from kissing her passionately and intensely. He knows this goodbye needs to be on her terms.

He leans on the car and watches her walk toward the door. She doesn’t turn around, but he still watches until she disappears into the terminal. He’s just about to get back into the car when he hears, “Jaime! Wait!”

He turns to see Brienne rushing toward him, her suitcase abandoned on the curb. She practically knocks him over, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her lips desperately to his. His hands press into her back, holding her tightly to him, their mouths and tongues pouring out everything they couldn’t say.

Brienne’s fingers tangle in Jaime’s hair as she kisses him like a woman starved. Jaime’s hands roam up and down her back, memorizing the feel of her taut body. They finally pull apart, gasping for breath, and press their foreheads together, gazing into each other’s dilated eyes.

Brienne’s hands have come around to cup his face, and she strokes her thumbs along his cheekbones. She blinks and a single tear slides down her cheek. “Something to remember me by,” she murmurs with a soft smile.

Jaime wipes the tear away with a knuckle and places his hands on her waist. “Oh, believe me. I won’t ever forget you.”

Brienne places one last sweet, yet intimate kiss on his lips and pulls herself away. Their hands stay interlocked until she steps back onto the curb and collects her suitcase. She turns and raises her hand, and Jaime returns the gesture. With one last smile over her shoulder, she enters the terminal to go back to her real life.

For some reason, Jaime can’t find it in himself to be too upset. He knows in his gut, feels it in his _bones_, that they will see each other again. And this time, they won’t have to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! That was a ride. This fic was originally supposed to be four chapters, lol. I never realized how fun writing porn without plot would be! Thank you all for reading, commenting and kudos-ing. Now go read Fling! :)


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